


Did You Have To?

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [70]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: Dr Fell was holding forth in the break room for once, a cup of tea sitting half-drunk on the table beside him as his hands danced, and stories about his husband Dear Anthony spilled out of him to a delighted cluster of students.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [70]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 46
Kudos: 1121





	Did You Have To?

Dr Fell, it is widely known, is a person of many words. They flood out of him carrying a deluge of information, or a story about his husband, or an extended explanation that loops back on itself so much that he ends up arriving at the actual point (if the point can be deciphered from the rest) from three directions at once. That his subject is Literature, and entire books full of words, only enhances his reputation for wordiness. He seems to strive to be liked, or at least understood and will explain (or at least attempt to explain) and justify almost any of his actions and decisions. He is free with casual endearments, calling everybody, students, fellow professors, and husband alike his 'dear'. Indeed, he calls his husband 'dear' so much, that everyone considers the man's full name to be 'Dear Anthony'. In short, everyone adores Dr Fell and his tales. Or almost everyone, anyway.

***

Dr Crowley, it must be said, is short and curt with his words, cutting straight to the point without stopping for so much as a pleasantry on the way. There is a sharpness ever hovering in his voice as if his tongue is a weapon permanently poised to slice away any verbiage that dares to get in his way, though his older students praise the way he can lay out complex explanations in a way that makes instant sense (and are memorable to boot). Despite that, he keeps his explanations to the subject matter, leaving his personal actions unexplained. That his subject is Botany, all thorns and stings and pointed spines, only enhances his reputation for prickliness. In short, nobody much likes Dr Crowley, though they are too afraid to say so to his face.

***

Dr Fell was holding forth in the break room for once, a cup of tea sitting half-drunk on the table beside him as his hands danced, and stories about his husband Dear Anthony spilled out of him to a delighted cluster of students.

On the other side of the room, Dr Crowley glanced up from his phone and reached for his cup of coffee. He scowled as Dr Fell launched into another story about dear Anthony being trailed by a string of fluffy ducklings. Dr Fell glanced his way only once, locked eyes-to-glasses for a breath and then smiled wider, emphasising how kind and helpful his darling husband was. The harder Dr Crowley scowled, the more obviously Dr Fell praised dear Anthony's sweetness and light and...

Dr Crowley drained his cup and set it down with a click loud enough to echo across the room. He pushed himself to his feet and sauntered towards the door, passing Dr Fell's group as he did so with an audibly grumbled, " _Some_ of us have lessons in five minutes."

Dr Fell broke off, clearly flustered, and stared at the clock, "Oh, dear me, is that the time? I really must be going." He gulped the remains of his tea and scuttled for the door in the taller man's wake, catching him up long enough for the students to overhear a brief exchange between them.

Dr Crowley grumbled, "Did you _have_ to do that?"

"Yes, dear." Dr Fell's fond smile could be heard in his voice. Presumably he was still thinking about his husband. The students half expected him to go off into some long explanation that would justify his actions in the face of Dr Crowley's disgruntlement.

Dr Crowley's only verbal response was a muttered, "Bastard," too quiet for any inflections to be heard. The door closing cut off anything else.

The students bristled at the insult to their beloved professor. How _dare_ Dr Crowley call lovely sweet Dr Fell a bastard? He was the last person in the entire college that they would consider to be one! And what, they wondered, did Dr Crowley have against Dr Fell's dear Anthony that even hearing stories about him would provoke such a vicious level of name calling in response?


End file.
